These days, please text me to let me know you will be calling. I may or may not pick up.
Texting though is the preferred method of communication for my kids. Heaven forbid they speak to someone unless of course it is on Facetime. Seems to be one extreme or the other.
Strange as it may sound, texting has definitely helped ease the transition as our household has moved from five people to currently three.
I miss the boys now that they are away at school, but I try not to be a helicopter parent. They need to go and do and adjust and learn on their own, but I do appreciate the occasional text message, also known as: “proof of life.”
To be honest, the messages are not often (or ever), “Hi, Mom. I miss you.”
It is a lot of “What is the Netflix password?” and “I need more Falcon Dollars.”
My inquiries about their classes are met with, “I am in a ping pong tournament.” and “Nick Saban is on campus!”
Sometimes I get unnecessary updates; things I don’t want to know like, “I still have post nasal drip,” and “Spring semester bill is now available.”
Most importantly — and sadly necessary — are the texts that simply read, “Gio.”
Gio is my son’s pet rabbit. Our second child and second son, Nick, adopted Gio years ago. Gio has been living his best life in the former chicken coop in our backyard. He has a plush hutch and plenty of space to roam in the yard.
Nick has done a great job caring for Gio, even spending his own money on rabbit feed and supplies. I, however, despite being an animal lover, have failed Gio miserably.
If my son did not send me the weekly text reminders, poor Gio would be … well, he would probably no longer “be.” Caring for Gio is a new habit my brain just will not make a pathway for, no matter how much Nick reminds me.
And yes, there are even reminders on repeat, with alerts, in my calendar: Rabbit!
To be fair, even before Nick left for college, Gio and I were not friends. He bites. Apparently, he only bites me though. I would not have been heartbroken if my son had rehomed Gio. Just saying.
So, just like the boys send me “proof of life” texts, I also send “proof of life” texts to Nick about Gio.
“See? He’s fine. He’s a jerk, but he’s fine.” Often a picture of fresh teeth marks in my hand is included.
I don’t blame Gio for disliking me. He always has an abundance of food and water, so that is not a worry, but imagine if your person had to send reminders about your existence to his family.
“Mom, just check on him. Please. (insert eye roll here.)”
If that is what it takes though in order for my son to “check in” then, so be it. Gio and I will continue to dislike each other until lack of “proof of life” do us part.
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